


Hawkins and the Prefilled Coffin

by Callist



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Magic: The Gathering (Card Game)
Genre: Gen, Ravnica (Magic: The Gathering)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25511911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callist/pseuds/Callist
Summary: When a coffin delivery turns out to already have an occupant, the Simic Hybrid Scientist Hawkins is brought onto the case. Who, or what, is in the coffin, and which Guild is behind this?It's a good day to Science. Oh, and maybe some magic and detective work. Mostly Science.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. A Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> Characters are born from a Ravnica campaign, where Hawkins left the feeling like they needed a few more adventures.
> 
> The setting is from Wizards of the Coast, all rights reserved. 
> 
> I'm just having some fun in their universe.

Ravnica, the bustling metropolis, the land of competing guilds and political intrigue, where men and similar bipeds tramp both on the surface and below. Ravnica, oh great city of commerce and justice, or worship and pleasures hedonistic, Ravnica …  
Dull.  


If, soaring above the city state, perhaps on one of the floating airships, you swooped down upon the Simic’s Zonot Seven, a round crevasse lined with water, and turn a hard right, past the cafes full of scientists and scholars, deep in discussions on the latest new hybrid; tucked behind the medical university, there is a non-descript door. Etched in common bear the words “Laboratory 1522: Research and Development”.  


Down a short hallway is a waiting room, glowing blue from the lights of the surrounding tanks full of aquatic life. At a desk is an elven intern, using the infinite time stuck at the receipt desk, (and the lack of visitors), to proofread his report on the genetic markers of dominant harpies.  


Behind the intern is a secure door, the runes lining the frame enchanting it to only to open to authorized personnel. A long, sloped hallway leading down to numerous doors and hatches, give a buzz of Izzet technology and the bubbling of test tubes not unlike the sound of the Golgari Swarm, perhaps with out with crunching noises. Most of the time.  


At the very end of the hall, past some storage crates and a leading stack of boxes, is a metal door with a small plate: “Project Leader Hawkins”. Beneath, above, and around the plaque is a series of signs in Common, Sylvan, Goblin, Infernal, and several scripts that are hard to decipher, all warning that safety equipment is required past this point, “No Izzet technology without PL authorization”, Not to remove any materials without of forms in triplicate, and “Do not enter when door glows purple under penalty of being used for specimens”, in spikey red handwriting, with arrows pointing toward it, “No soliciting! -Hawkins.”

A large grey hand knocked. The door gave no response, being an inanimate door. The figure reached within his Azorious Justiciar robes with his trunk, pulling out a small smooth stone on the end of a silver chain. He tapped the surface and spoke to it.  
“Hawkins, Hawkins, are you busy? Can I come in?”

On the other side of the door, surrounded by tubes, vials, and jars of Jace-knows-what, a figure is bent over a work bench, extracting from some furry creature what can only be the third stomach. To the left of the dissection tray, a stone glows gently. A pale blue tentacle squiggled from under the figure’s teal lab poncho to tap it, while the owner maintained their focus.  


“Hawkins, … Hawkins!” A gruff voice came from the stone, “Is it safe for entry?”  


“Hmm…? Oh. Kel. Yes. Safe. Perfectly,” Hawkins toned distractedly as they dipped the stomach at the end of their tweezers into a yellow vial. The contents fizzed, the bubbles reflecting in their googles.  


“Third stomach of specimen 67 reacts to substance 12. Noted.” Another tentacle reached for a pen.  
Behind them, the door opened to show a Loxodon in blue robes befitting his Azorion status. He ducked under a leafy vine growing across the ceiling to the lab.  


“Hawkins, I can come back if you’re – Good Sphinx, what is that odor!?” His trunk kinked inwards.  


“Hmm? Oh, Kel, did not hear you come in. I’m dissolving the stomachs of some abnormal rats Ketlen found for me under the 3rd Precinct.” They mutter a spell and the air above them dissipated.  


Hawkins, although they were not of short stature, had to look up at Kel as they removed their googles to reveal solid black eyes, blinking unevenly in the light.  


“I … apologize for not having proper Loxodonian ventilation equipment at the door. It has been measurement of time since you have been in the range of my fumes instead of the café. How can I be of assistance?”  
Kel grinned at his odd friend.  


“We were alerted by the Orzohv Chapel off of Tin Street, near the Bulwark. They had just received a shipment of new coffins from Irbitov, ready for new ‘clients’, when the acolyte discovered that one was already occupied.”  


"Animal, vegetable, mineral, or something more interesting?” Hawkins tentacles were pulling out a new notebook and pen, “Also, why were the Azorious informed of the matter? Usually Orzohv take care of their own incidents.”  


Kel bristled, “Well, yes, unfortunately they feel they are above contacting the Law Mages, but in this case, they are certain it’s not something they had a hand in. What’s more, I spoke to our friend in the cloth Everen, who says that the powers that be are “Quite Annoyed” that someone is trying to dump their dirty work on their guild.”  


“You still have not disclosed what is within the box, Kel.”  


“That’s why I stopped by. They are pretty sure it’s a humanoid, but looks like it has been put through a grinder, or two. Maybe three.”  


“And you want to know if it is a creation of the Simic labs?”  


“We want to know what it is, period. And how many are in there. It’s a mess in there,” Kel sighed, “one of my officers fainted on the scene.”  


Hawkins gave a shudder of glee. “Let me get my bag.” They whipped off their lab poncho to reveal a grey turtleneck poncho, and pulled on a darker teal travel poncho. Hawkins grabbed a large poncho from next the bench, “Lead on!”

  
  


Kel could always feel a bit less cramped stepping out the lab tunnel and into the open air of the Fifith Precinct. As much as he loved visiting his scientist friend, he’d rather meet in the café up the street. He didn’t understand how Hawkins could stand spending days, or much less weeks in their case, without stepping outside. Maybe that’s just from Kel’s childhood in nature.  
He looked over to Hawkins, hunched over a notebook while they walked, tinted googles protecting their sensitive eyes from the midday light.  


Kel met Hawkins when he was assigned to “oversee” their Zonot’s project group. Kel understands now that the Simic sent him to a desk in Hawkins’s lab to keep his trunk out of more important research. Then Kel was a low-level Law mage and Hawkins the odd Hybrid left to their own petty devices. After a few adventures that took them working across guilds and deep within the city, Kel was a proper Justiciar Law mage (with apartments by the Library), and Hawkins was an odd Project Leader left to their own Important Top-Secret devices.  


He was very fond of the hybrid, and was sure that Hawkins saw him as more than a potential lab specimen. They had more than once laid themselves on the line to protect each other in their adventures. Things had quieted down a bit in the past few months, after Hawkins recovered from a near-fatal injury beneath Ravnica. Kel still wasn’t entirely sure how his friend survived, only that the Simic research labs took in their body, and a week later he received word that Kel could visit Hawkins at the medical college.  


It was clear, even before then, that no matter how close their bond was, there will always be a few secrets between them.


	2. The Syndic Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters are full of talking, but hopefully it leads to more action later.

Hawkins and Kel approached the stone chapel, white against the bustle of Tin Street. Azorious and Orzhov officers and officials stood around the partitioned entrance, with two Boros minotaurs standing guard. An Azorian vedalken met up with them, saluting Kel.  
“Justicar Noor, sir, let me escort yourself and P.L. Hawkins to the scene.”  
Kel gave a small salute back, “Thank you Direll, and if you could get us up to speed.”

Direll led them down the side aisle of the chapel, past several officers taking statements from the Orzhov acolytes.

“At first light today, a Syndic by the name of Barious went into the storage area to take stock of the coffins from Irbitov delivered late yesterday afternoon. When he entered, he noticed an unusual smell from one casket. Upon opening it, he found the -erm- ‘evidence’. He immediately reported it to his ministrant, who verified the issue and reported it to the Syndicate. They, finding that it was not an internal matter, sent word to the local Boros legion, who in turn reached out to the Azorious." 

At the back of the chapel, a door led to a hallway that led to a series of offices and storage rooms. At the end was a much larger room, with crates and boxes. As they entered, a tall, elegant woman in white and black dress robes, flanked by two helmed knights, approached them.

“Ah, Justicar Noor, how marvelous you are here.” Her smile did not meet her eyes. “And…” she trailed off. A knight leaned forward, although not a sound was heard, “...Project Leader Hawkins, how exciting. Thank you for taking the time out of-”  
Hawkins swept past them for the coffin surrounded by officers. The Orzhov’s smile drooped.  
Kel didn’t stop Hawkins, “Yes Ministrant Magnolia, we appreciate your hospitality. A few questions, if you please.”  
The ministrant looked back to Kel, her lips thinning in a grin, “Yes, of course Justiciar. Anything.”

Kel fished out a notebook of his own, “Now I understand these arrived yesterday. Who was it that took in the delivery?”  
“That would be one of our acolytes, Lestra Nabull. Our Syndics were busy with a… ceremony at the time, so Nabull simply accepted the order and stowed it in this room. She then returned to her duties.”  
“And did anyone else have access to the room between then and the morning?”  
“Oh, this room contains no valuables, and nothing of interest. Thus, we do not lock the doors. Anyone visiting our establishment could enter this room. Not to mention the rear hatch for easy deposit and removal of coffins, but that is latched tight from the inside.” She tilted her head slightly, “ Will that be all Justicar? I can assure you my full cooperation is at your disposal.”   
Kel tapped his notebook, “Yes, thank you Ministant. I will be in touch.” He held up a hand as she stepped away, “But one more thing, the hatch, does it have any special alarms on it when opened?”

“There’s no need,” Magnolia stated without missing a beat,” it is only big enough to pass a casket through, and sealed to the outside.”

\----  
Hawkins made a beeline for the open coffin, the Azorius recruits and Boros patrolmen stepped aside. Hawkins set down their satchel, whipped out some gloves, mask, and goggles, and peered into the casket.  
The contents were less a corpse and more of a collection of parts, dumped across the space like the leftover offal of an ogre butcher shop. Hawkins reached down and dabbed their fingers at the stump of an arm, bringing the blood to their eye level.

“Some coagulation, fibrin present. Halos around cuts show serum without clotting. These cuts were made post mortem, but not long after.” They lifted a leg, as a Boros soldier looked on in disbelief, “Particular shifting of lividity, but low putrefaction,” Hawkins pulled a vial from their bag, collecting come of the blood from a femur jutting out, and another from a foot. They held it to the light, “colour is normal, no sign of poisoning in either individual.”  
“Either?” The soldier asked.  
Hawkins pointed to several limbs. “There are two left legs, but with feet and not hooves, makes the subjects humanoid and not centaur or minotaur. Also, one leg is meticulously shaved, possibly with a follicle removal charm, while this one is a bit more stubbled and muscular.  
They lifted the leg again, the Azorius recruit flinched, “This green tint is from decomp, not simic mutation, so there are two human in here, both killed in the past 24 hours. Dismantled amateurly after death, but not long after.”

Kel walked over, “Two humans, you said? Anything else strike you initially?”  
“Two female humans, killed about 24 hours ago in a separate location, disassembled soon after death. This corpse,” Hawkins pointed to the more built arm, “was chopped with hesitation marks at the joining. The other was done with haste.”  
“All that at the first look?” the Boros soldier asked in wonder.  
Kel beamed with pride, “Any clue as to how they died?”  
Hawkins drew some runes in the air.  
“Not yet. Will need more analysis. Is it possible to move these to a more sterile environment? Hopefully without much shift, I want to observe the contact blanching.”  
“I am sure that can be arranged. I will see if we can levitate them with a fresh holding charm and take them to a nearby station.”  
Hawkins began to pace the scene. 

A tall, muscular Boros Wojek strode into the room, going straight to Kel.

“They only just told me that there would be inter-guild cooperation in this case,” she narrowed her eyes, “and there will be cooperation.”  
Kell smiled warmly and brought up his hand, “Justicar Kel Noor.”  
The Boros shook his hand, “Lt. Katlyna Zibiah, Wojek. And they are?” she leaned around the Loxodon to look at Hawkins, who was crawling on their hands and knees inspecting the side of the coffin with an iridescent finger and a series of lenses protruding from their goggles.   
Kel straightened up with pride, “That is my colleague Project Leader Hawkins. They have worked with me on several major inter-guild cases.”  
Hawkins shouted across the room, “No seepage detected, but I want to check the lining more thoroughly,” their nose was still near the floor, “I bet some micro-particulates are beneath the blood and dermal debris. Can we take this to a more sterile environment, or should I begin analysis here?” They ran a finger where the coffin met the floor, then sniffed their hand, “The current results here are… inconclusive.”

Kel looked to Katlyna, “Your scene, your call, Wojek Zibiah.”  
She stared at the ponch-oed figure, who probed a cleaning rag and polish bottle in the supply rack. With the soldier and recruit wide eyed, Hawkins licked their finger thoughtfully.   
These were the best Ravnica had to offer. Katlyna sighed. 

“Ok, we’ll move the evidence, but all the hosts have mercy on you if this is mis-investigated.” She pointed at Kel, since he was the one paying attention. Hawkins was snipping samples of the linings of neighboring empty coffins. By the doorway, one of the Orzohv clerics was glaring at Hawkins, the scientist blissfully unaware.  
Kel drew her attention back, “Of course, of course, we will be consummate professionals. Hawkins is the finest mind of Simic Forensics.” Hawkins was staring at the hatch, and scribbling furiously in their notebook.  
“Super.” Katlyna pinched the bridge of her nose.


	3. Deep Tissue Massage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: some gore in the forensic sense

Hawkins understood the need to keep the evidence contained and under guard, but it did mean they had to run back to the lab to get some equipment. They trusted Kel, and assumed Zibiah was diligent enough if they reached the level of lieutenant, to transport the coffin and its content to the proper environments.

They breezed past the lobby intern, who just gave a lazy salute with “P.L. Hawkins,” but never looked up from their textbook. Hawkins didn’t notice, because their own eyes were writing a list of what was required at the station.

As they headed to the end of the hall, an elven head stuck out from a door. 

Brendythen Mallay.

Dull.

“Hawkins! Any chance you have a minute?”

“No.” they kept walking.

Mallay continued, “I could really use your input of these goblin thorax samples.”

“You could.” Hawkins added another item to their list.

Mallay began to jog next to Hawkins to keep up.

“Don’t forget, the Zynot review is in two weeks.”

“That is correct.” Hawkins stepped around some crates in the hall, which stopped Mallay from following.

“Okay, nice talk!” Mallay called to their back.

“Negative.”

Hawkins made it to their door, placing a hand on the surface and muttering a series of syllables, without looking up from the notebook.

The bio-luminescent algae in the ceiling gave a happy glow upon Hawkins’ entrance. A tentacle slid out from under the poncho to caress them as they headed back to the storage locker. Hawkins shifted their satchel to their other hip, and lifted a much larger carrying case from under the bunk. 

A flap opened to reveal a bank of vials, empty and full, with a careful spiky labels on the side. Hawkins topped off some vials and swapped samples with clean ones. They then grabbed a retractable microscope (a gift from Kel), fresh lab poncho and gloves, several bags of brightly coloured powders, and a bizarre contraption of gates, straps, and leavers in bronze (an item bought with a gift voucher from their friends Ketlen and Evern). Lastly, Hawkins scribbled a sign for the door:

“Go Away. Out in the field until further notice. Leave specimens in the deposit box. Unless you are Mallay. Then pipette your own thorax.” An arrow pointed to an enchanted sterile box in the hall.

All geared up, Hawkins briskly walked out of the labs, nearly running over Mallay in the process.

\-----

The travel back to the station was fairly uneventful. By this point to the citizens of the precinct, the odd scientist moving with their nose in a notebook was enough to part the crowds. When the underground transport let off at one of the Tin Street stops, Hawkins, without missing a beat, headed straight for the back of the lobby of the Boros station only to be stopped by a soldier standing guard.

“Wait just a minute, sir… mamm, sirma-”

“That will be all, no minute required. I really must get to work.” Hawkins gestured to the door, “there are time-sensitive materials that require my immediate attention.”

The young Boros minotaur held up his hand, “No one can go back there without an escort.”

Hawkins began to reach for their stone of farspeech, but decided on a more expeditious method.

“KEL.” they shouted in staccato, making the lobby of wojeks and the public jump and stare, “KEL!”

Katlyna swept out of the doors, shoving an elf and lifting an angel wing out of the way, “For the love of Razia-” she smacked the side of the minotaur’s head so hard it shook her own braids, “Morak, you moron! I told you to expect a scientist!”

“Ah, Wojek Zibiah, lead the way.” Hawkins already forgot the incident, moving right through the doors. Katlyna didn’t even know they knew her name. She gave one last smack to Morak and followed.

\-----------

In the evidence room, Kel stood by the casket, pondering the contents. He turned and smiled as Katlyna and Hawkins walked in mid conversation.

“... as you can see, we decided it best to transport the whole coffin to best preserve the evidence. And because the Orzohv wanted it the hell out of there. I’m giving you carte blanche to get in there and do whatever it is you do, but it’s my arse on the line, so-”

“No concern needed. I am certain of my abilities.” Hawkins snapped on a fresh pair of gloves, and whipped on a fresh lab poncho, “Lieutenant, Kel, have you learned anything yet?”

Katlyna pulled her own notebook from under her white and red tunic, “The caskets were delivered at 3:15 pm, and the room was entered by an acolyte to stow away some candles at 4:30. No other member of the chapel came into the room until about 7:45 the next morning. We know the delivery door could only be open from the inside, so whomever deposited the bodies came inside through the front entrance. We have some sergeants checking the missing persons list, but you know Ravnica, people disappear at wild rates, whether by choice or misadventure, and half the time their deaths are legal under the Guildpact.” 

Kel stepped in, “However, since the Orzohv are concerned that they are being framed by another guild, and since they are uncertain of the identities and the possibility of these being important people, this interguild task force was brought in.”

Hawkins held their hands over the coffin, drawing complicated runes above.

“Knowing the crowded masses that is the Tin Street Market, I’m not surprised someone made their way in,” Kel continued.

Katlyna scoffed, “I’m more surprised the Unsub didn’t just give the bodies to one of the Ogrish food vendors -cheap meat of unknown origins is their wheelhouse.”

“It is because they had affection for one of the victims,” Hawkins mused over a headless torso.

“Wait, what? How can you say that? These bodies are dismembered and dumped, some show of care that is!” Katlyna gestured to the legs. 

Hawkins picked up the two left arms and held them up to the Lieutenant.

“Tell me about these,” they gave the arms a slight wiggle.

“They are two left arms.”

If Hawkin’s could roll their eyes, they would, but solid black eyes lose that effect.

“And?”

Katlyna looked carefully before speaking again, “The one is more muscular, while the other has painted nails.”

“Affirmative, and the cut marks?”

Kell was also leaning in at this point.

The Boros ran a finger over the broken skin of the manicured arm, “This one is rough, like the unsub was torn at the shoulder in a hurry while cutting it free.”

Kel pointed, but did not touch, the other arm, “This one, although not smooth, is cut more consistent, and the skin is less jagged.”

Hawkins nodded, “so whomever took these specimens apart, had a closer relationship with the one with greater muscular development.”

“But if they care so much, why possibly kill and cut them up? And why remove the heads?” Katlyna gestured to the remains, “That’s a weird way to show you care.”

“Obviously, without the heads, not only is identification difficult, but necromancy strategies nigh impossible. No head, no mouth, no mouth, no speech.”

“And,” Katlyna was catching on, “By moving the bodies from the death site, the ghosts won’t be floatin’ about!”

“So, where does that leave us?” Kel asked the back of Hawkins, who already dove their goggled head into the casket.

“There’s got to be a connection between the two victims. Their bodies being dumped together, and killed around the same time, can’t be by chance.” Katlyna tapped her notebook.

“There!” Hawkins stood upright, their poncho and face covered in blood and viscera. In one tentacle was draped a large bloodstained sack. “Mode of transport!” They rushed over to the countertop and laid out the sack, pulling their microscope out of the carrier case. They began to adjust the knobs with tentacles while taking notes by hand.

Katlyna stared for a moment before giving her head a shake, “Is Hawkins always like this, or is it a Simic thing I’ve never seen before?”

Kel shrugged, “20% is Simic, but the rest is all Hawkins. They take some getting used to. Keep in mind that (usually) they’re not ignoring you, they’re just distracted.”

“And… the poncho?”

Kel shuddered, “I have only seen what’s under there once, and that was before the tentacles. It’s a mystery that only Hawkins knows, and we’d best leave it at that, otherwise it leads to the path of madness.”

The Lieutenant took one more look at the scientist, then turned back to the casket.

“A muscular human female… Grrul? Azorious? Golgari? Boros? Even… Radkos?”

“Dimir?” Kel offered.

“Extinct, let’s be logical.”

“Sure. I doubt Golgari, too clean, and doesn’t look like they feed on the sort of things that find their way to the Undercity. Also, the skin has seen enough of the sun.”

“Maybe not Radkos for her,” Katlyna ran a callused finger along the stubbled leg, “No body modifications, more incidental scars than purposeful.”

“Anything, Hawkins?” Kel stood at the side, in their line of sight.

“Kel, reach into the case and hand me the green stoppered vial and the blue jar of powder. And a clean dish.” One of their tentacles hit them-self in the stomach, “Erm, please.”

Kel grabbed the supplies from the case while Katlyna began to sort the body parts on two work tables.On the second body, she noticed something.

“Have you gotten a chance to look at victim two?”

Hawkins dunked a cutting of the sack into a vial, “What have you seen?”

She pointed to the upper torso, “Tears at the chest that may have been piercings.”

Hawkins quickly loomed over, glazing through the lenses, “And torn just prior, if not just postmortem.”

“And this scarring here?”

“Parallel lines, only a bit of dermis pierced. Intentional, if not ritual.” 

Katlyna directed to a swath of leg that was missing skin, “Anything here?”

Hawking sprinkled some powder from a pouch, and spoke in some odd language. The powder rearranged on the flesh and glowed. “A tattoo, probably torn off to conceal identity.”

“Right, so are we all in agreement that victim two is most likely of the Radkos cult? At least, in theory.”

Hawkins probed one of the torn piercing spots. “I would say they were at least at one time a member.” They swabbed the cut at the hip of the torso, and then the corresponding spot on the other body.

“But I’m guessing the demon cult doesn't keep proper records.” Kel mused.

Hawkins dropped the swabs into two yellow vials.

“And unless this was a star performer, few would notice her gone,” Kel grumbled, “And I’ve seen the backstage chaos at one of their shows.”

“Really? You?” Katlyna looked over Kel.

He preened, “It was part of a previous case Hawkins and I did with two from other guilds.”

“Huh.”

“As I suspected!” Hawkins crowed and spun around, holding the two vials.

Kel leaned in, “Two… green vials?”

“Sisters! This particular shade of green means direct siblings!”

“As in, victim one is sister to the Radkos victim?” Katlyna looked closer to the bodies.

“Sisters from two different guilds?” Kel wrote in his own notebook.

“So whoever killed the first victim had some sort of relationship with them, and possibly as collateral damage, killed the Radkos sister.”

“But how? And who are they?”

“More importantly, even if we knew what guild they were in, if Hawkins right-”

“-Affirmative.” Hawkins spoke into their microscope.

“-It’s been 24 hours, the victims may not be missed yet. So it’s not like we can rely on asking around. Any luck with the bag?” Katlyna walked over to Hawkins.

Hawkins moved the dipped fabric sample into the blue powder. “This bag was once transporting produce. Beneath the viscera is red dust, but not enough to say it has been in the wastes.”


	4. Sunhome

They secured the evidence room and made their way northeast of Tim Street, past the Izzet Towers with their odd hum, towards the area between the Boros’ Sunhome and the Red Wastes. The sky was devoid of clouds, save for trails of red dust blowing from the north.  
Hawkins, wearing dark tinted goggles, stood at a cross-street with a clean cloth held aloft. Kel and Katlyna scoped out the area.  
“Do you think this might be near where the victims were dismembered?” Kel pondered.  
Hawkins brought the cloth to thor face and sniffed it, “Yes, this is the same dust as on the sack.”  
Katlyna pointed to the buildings, “The crime scene could be anywhere. No to mention this place is lousy with Gruul and Boros, two of the guilds we surmised Victim One was a part of.”  
“So… a needle in a Golgari Swarm” Kel shrugged.  
“Well,” she straightened her tunic, “As my training sergeant used to say, ‘Flatfoot, get those feet a flappin.’ Let’s start out at Sunhome, ask if there’s any useful news.”

“It has been awhile since I have been to Sunhome,” Kel began as they headed east.  
“I’m sure it’s the same as it ever was.”  
Hawkins pulled the hood to their travel poncho to shield themselves from the sun. It was an unlikely trio, an amazonian ebony wojek, a loxodon in blue robes, and a figure that closely resembled a moving tent. As they approached the gates to Sunhome, a brutish guard stepped forward and saluted.   
“Lt Zibiah, you’ve brought visitors?”  
Katlyna gave a nod, “Justicar Noor, of Azorious”, Kel raised a hand in greeting, and laid it upon his tunic badge, “ and Project Leader Hawkins.” Hawkins was looking around the walls.  
“Justicar Noor seeking entry?”  
“Interguild business,” Katlyna deflected, “Do you know if Bronx or Starch are in?”   
The guard grimaced, “Starch just got in from the field, they look out to kill. The first wojek who asked him a question has been temporarily reassigned to a night shift in Precinct Six.”  
Kel and Katlyna held back a shudder. There are some places even the bravest of Ravnica avoid at night.  
“And Bronx?”  
“She checked in, and immediately hit the training yard.”  
“Right. Well, follow me, J. Noor and PL Hawkins.”  
Kel fell quickly into step with Katlyna, “So, we’re going to speak with Bronx?”  
“Oh no, you don’t want to interrupt Meridin Bronx in training. Best we brave Jander Strach. Despite his anger issues, he’s the more diplomatic.”

Katlyna led the group to a back stairway, and then to a hallway full of shouts. Several Boros fled past them, others pressed themselves against the walls, fingers gripping the stone like in a warzone.  
“Does anyone in this forsaken place know how to fill out a progress report?!” a voice bellowed, “I know you were hired for your brawn over your brains, but surely you can collectively bring yourselves to check a few boxes on a piece of paper that shows that your not spending your shift drinking swill in some hole in the ground like some Grrul member on an off day! Argh!”  
A half-elf Boros ducked from the thrown mug, which smashed against a wall, nearly missing a minotaur. They then ran straight into Kel, who steadied him gently.  
‘Logsdon, I take it Starch is in their usual sunny disposition?” Katlyna asked. Logsdon gave a look of pain.  
“ Wouldn’t you know it. I’ve got at least three patrols that have yet to turn in their week’s reports, and two who filled it out incorrectly. Starch is getting ready to send out the goon squad to find them. Sounds like I will be putting in overtime to process it all.”  
“Pity.” Another voice came from the top of the stairs. A tall, sturdy human walked up, placing a hand on Logsdon’s shoulder, “You of all people need a break, dealing with old Starchy’s bark all day. Let me know if there’s any way I can help.” The man patted the half-elf with a big tanned hand. Logsdon slumped slightly.  
“Thanks Uhrhardt. Speaking of which, you’re brave to show your face around here, especially as your patrol logs aren’t in yet. Do you want me to take them before Starch goes hunting?”  
Uhrhardt looked resolute, “thanks for offering, but I need to talk to him. Does he have time?”  
“Actually,” Logsdon hugged his files closer, “Lt Zibiah is next in line with an important interguild investigation.”  
Uhrhardt turned to the group with a slow smile, “Oh Katlyna, I am sorry, didn’t see you, so distracted. A case that calls for interguild? Hope it’s not near my run. As you can see, my paperwork skills are less than par.”  
Kel blinked.  
Katlyna elbowed the loxodon, “Nah, Fennick, it didn’t end in your route. As far as where it started, much less who the doers are, we could use your eyes and ears for odd activity. We’ll send out the APB as soon as it clears the brass.”  
Fennick Uhrhardt gave a slight chuckle, “Okay, well, you’re definitely going first, mine is not nearly as urgent. Anyway, you can deal with the Starch in his most cheerful mood. I will put my crew on the lookout for the unusual right away.” He gave a salute, made an about-face, and headed out.  
Katlyna shrugged, “Fennick’s a good soldier when he doesn’t have a head up his arse. I used to patrol with him.”  
“Logsdon!” The voice down the hall roared.   
“The Starched One must be ready for you. Just, um, let me go in first.” Logsdon adjusted his tunic and led the way.  
Jander Starch was less of a man and more of a board in a red and white tunic. He towered behind a desk in a cluttered office, his inbox and outbox equally full. At the foot of the desk, a large orange cat kneaded a fluffy red pillow.  
Kel brightened up seeing the cat. Katlyna gave starch a salute. Hawkins had their nose in their notebook.  
Logsdon saluted, “Sir, Lt Katlyna Zibiah, Justicar Kel Noor, and Project Leader Hawkins; the team on the Tin Street case.” Starch sighed.  
“Thank you for telling me such a redundant statement Logsdon. Now go and send Petra’s squad to root out those reports. If they get all five before roll call tonight, drinks are on me at Diceniv’s. Including for you.”  
“Yes sir, will do sir.” Logsdon saluted as he backwards scurried out of the office.  
Starch pressed meaty fingers to the bridge of his nose, “I am sorry you had to see that. Things have been… tense in Ravnica as of late, Jace’s long absence notwithstanding. And the last thing we need is a case that puts the guilds at odds. Please tell me you’ve made progress, Zibiah.”  
“PL Hawkins has been invaluable in it, sir. We’ve not identified the victims, but we know more about the MO, the area they died in, and that one is, or was a member of the Radkos. And the other victim, her sister-”  
“-was in Boros.” Hawkins had pulled back their hood, holding yet another vial from their poncho to the light, and comparing it to something in their notebook.  
Everyone turned to them.  
“What?”  
“Are you sure?” Starch leaned forward, “That is quite a statement. It’s bad enough that there are two victims, but the murder of a wojek is a punishable offense. Can your science tell you who?”  
Hawkins tapped the vial, which gave a glow. The cat had wandered between Kel’s legs, then turned it’s head to sniff at Hawkin’s poncho.  
The scientist mused, “Not yet. But they do not dwell far from this area. Their diet corresponds to a diet like Lt Zibiah, I found after analyzing her follicles.”  
“When did you get my… follicles?” Katlyna put a hand to her braids. Hawkins waved it off.  
“Not important. I get samples of my acquaintances all the time. Could write a pamphlet on loxodon digestion. What is essential is that somewhere, you are short a Boros who is in sorority with a Radkos devotee. And the red dust I collected matches that of this eight mile radius.”  
“And,” Zibiah groaned, still clutching a braid absently, “we don’t know who it is because so many reports are missing.”  
The cat was in bliss as it was stroked by a tentacle.   
“Do you have any records with next of kin? Perhaps with guild connections?” Kel asked, “I could send a bird to my guild hall to check out files.”  
“That’s not exactly something that goes on record, especially when Radkos is involved. They don’t keep great accounts in the demon cult. And what wojek would want to advertise that their sister is a Radkos freak?” Katlyna scoffed.  
“So do we wait until Logsdon and Petra get back with the reports?” Starch looked at his cat, purring contentedly belly up on the floor as the tentacle rubbed gently. “And hope that one of them contains mention of a missing wojek? I could order a company wide roll call, but I can’t see that happening any faster.”  
“I don’t think this can be delayed that long, not if we want to find any usable evidence or specters,” Kel noted.  
Hawkins spoke up, “It is imperative now that I have obtained samples of an atmospheric sort, that I return to the examination room to use this data to ascertain method of extinction. Kel, you should remain with the lieutenant. You are more proficient at the whole… communication aspect of investigation.”  
Starch seemed to snap out of his stress-induced haze, “Capital idea. I will get the scuttlebutt that someone has yet to report in today. Maybe I will imply that they are in some sort of trouble and whoever turns in info will gain brownie points. We’ll see to it that the rumour is not linked to the murder.”  
“Kel Noor and I will chat with those in this precinct, see if any word is up about a Radkos sister or any suspicious activity.” Katlyna tucked her notes away.  
Starch nodded, “See to it, and keep me posted. It goes without saying that this lack of communication is part of why we didn’t learn of this sooner.”  
“I will find you as soon as I fully complete the medical examination.” Hawkins’ tentacles gave one final pet to the cat before they whisked out the door with a swirl of poncho.  
Starched followed them with his eyes as the cat leaped to his lap. He stroked it distractedly.   
“I’ve heard rumours about Project Leader Hawkins, but I see now they are all understatements.”  
“If anyone can find this goblin in an ogrestack, it might be them. Or, you know, we completely bung this up and a killer will be able to run riot on Ravnica.” Katlyna crossed her arms.  
Starch laughed, “Or, maybe Jace will reappear and make this whole thing moot.”  
“Wouldn’t count on that,” Kel chuckled.


	5. Autopsy Interlude

Hawkins stepped off the transport on Tin street and headed into the station. Morax, the minotaur, almost fell over himself getting out of the way, giving a clumsy salute as Hawkins strode past, “PL Hawkins, Them! Welcome back to Tin Station Seven!”

Hawkins gave no notice of Morax, but their back tentacle gave a friendly wave from under the poncho. Morax, confused, gave a wave back.

In the examination room, Hawkins released the status spell over the first body, pulling one of their endless cotton swabs out. They carefully ran it along one arm, collecting any particulates remaining. With another wave of a hand and a few runes in the air, a projection of the corpse superimposed over a full body model with lighter colours floated above.

Hawkins inserted the cotton swab with the cloth they collected from outside Sunhome into two clear beakers of liquid, and let them sit. 

They walked over to the first victim, the Boros sister, with the brass contraption from the satchel held up to their eyes. Something had to indicate the cause of death, even without the head. Hawkins was certain the key to the case was with the Boros victim.

The device swung and clicked over the body. Hawkins carefully turned over the torso. With more clicks and whirls, bruises began to darken, an outline in magenta showed bones, and the state of internal organs glowed in green.

“There,” Hawkins lowered the device. There were abrasions and fractures on the right shoulder, leading to the spine and where the neck should be. They checked the front of the body again. Bruises went across the collar bones.

The Boros victim was pushed, hard. They probably went through a hard surface, a door or a window, something that collapses with the force of the body.

So that was enough, Hawkins was sure, to kill. The missing head will have enough of a contusion on the back to be cause of death.

So then the Radkos sister needed a reassessment. This was harder to detect, as there were already abrasions and cuts on the body. One, however, stood out on the torso, the left flank and right collarbone showed deep bruises. A circular bruise directly in the center of the stomach had developed. Something blunt had jabbed into her stomach, with great force. 

Hawkins ran a series of new diagnostics and held the brass device over the torso. It became clear there was an injury to the spleen and liver. It was enough to kill.

They lowered the device. The sort of injuries this subject sustained looked the same as what you see on criminals taken down by a Boros wojek, one trained in efficient, precise use of a baton.

Hawkins paused. The data was all good. Everything checked out. The facts even lined up. This was a missing wojek and her sister. The Boros was pushed into something, died, and then the Radkos sister was quickly dispatched. All this by another Boros wojek, who then dismantled them both and disposed of the bodies somewhere they thought would be covered up.

They needed those roll call reports.

And Kel needed to know, otherwise he and Zibiah were out there, possibly talking to an efficient killer in the ranks.

Hawkins quickly put the evidence on status and ran out the doors. Morax cleared the way in the street for them. 


End file.
